The Ten Deaths of Voldemort
by The Seamonkey
Summary: Ten ways Voldemort should have died before the first book was ever written. Rated T for lots of fun, wholesome violence.
1. Good Use of Muggle Technology

**Ten Ways Voldemort Should Have Died Before the First Book Was Ever Written**

**- - - **

—**10: Good Use of Muggle Technology—**

* * *

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. His Death Eaters were muttering amongst themselves, crowding around something. He swept forward, not needing to knock them aside; his presence at their backs was enough. They moved apart, facing him, heads inclined reverently. "What is it?" he asked silkily, and Lucius Malfoy held out a small oval object. Voldemort took it, holding it up to examine it closely.

- - -

"Lily, are you _sure_ this is going to work?" Remus asked worriedly in a hushed voice. Members of the Order were all crouched down behind a small rise about fifty yards away from the Death Eater gathering. Lily nodded.

"I'm positive. You-Know-Who will never see it coming. He hates Muggles—he won't know what it is."

Remus nodded, but still looked apprehensive. He and Lily peered slowly over the edge of the rise, staring at the shadowy figures ahead.

- - -

Voldemort turned the rounded object over in his fingers. It was made of a hard, cold substance, dark green in colour. On one end there was a little metallic ring. Curious, he slid a thin, bony finger through the ring and pulled. It came free. He looked slowly from the now-detached ring to the object. "It resembles...an egg...with a turtle shell," he said slowly. The Death Eaters all crowded closer to look.

Without warning, it exploded.

- - -

Remus jerked in surprise as a fireball lit up the night sky, incinerating everything—and everyone—near it. The Order members cried out, unable to help themselves. As the explosion died out and silence fell once more on their ears, tender from the sudden deafening noise, everyone slowly looked over the edge again. No one had been left standing. Remus blinked in shock. He turned to Lily, beside him.

"Merlin...what WAS that thing?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"A grenade."


	2. From Afar

—**9: From Afar—**

* * *

"My Death Eaters...friends...tonight, we make the boldest attack we have made yet. We invade the Muggle world."

The Death Eaters gasped and murmured, awed at their fearless leader's daring. Voldemort smiled, the setting sun glinting off of his reddish eyes. He raised his arms for silence and began to explain in detail what each of them was to do, outlining his plan and delighting in its brilliance.

- - -

James hefted the long, cold barrel of the thing Lily had given him and brought the butt end back against his shoulder, like she'd shown him. He closed one eye and squinted through the small circular sight lens on the top. He blinked in surprise and looked incredulously over at his wife. "That's amazing! I can see him perfectly!" he whispered. Lily nodded grimly.

"That's the idea."

- - -

Voldemort laughed his awful laugh and drew himself up to his full height. "Tonight," he said, raising his voice, "we do what no one has dared ever—"

Suddenly he jerked back, blood spraying out behind him, his ribs looking like they had been punched in. His eyes went round as he clutched at his chest. A trickle of blood escaped through his fingers, and he slowly collapsed over backwards. His empty eyes stared up at the sky as his leg twitched, once, and then he was still. The Death Eaters moved forward in horror, afraid and disbelieving of what they were seeing.

- - -

James packed up the gun and sat up, grinning widely. He caught Lily to him in a fierce hug and kissed her soundly. "A _gun_, you say?" he asked happily, and she nodded. "I can't wait to tell everyone! Where'd you get it?"

"I...er..._borrowed_ it from my sister's husband, Vernon," Lily said with a guilty grin.


	3. A Swing and a Miss

—**8: A Swing and a Miss—**

* * *

"Remus, get down!" James yelled. His friend, standing ten feet in front of him, instantly dropped to the floor. Now James had a clear shot. He took aim, leveling his wand at Voldemort, and shouted, "_Avada Kedavra!_" Viciously the green light of the spell crackled through the air—but Voldemort stepped to the left to fire a Cruciatus curse at someone, laughing, and the spell missed. James swore loudly as it hit the wall just behind the Dark Lord. The mortar crumbled and the spell punched through to the other room, breaking cleanly through the wall's inner structure.

James froze as he heard a low rumble over the shouts of the Order and Death Eaters, and he looked up.

A large crack was spreading across the ceiling of the large room, growing bigger and branching out as it went. James paled. It must have been a load-bearing wall. Oops. He swallowed—his throat suddenly dry—and turned on the spot, bellowing as loud as he could, "**PULL OUT!**" All around him, Order members recognized his voice and scrambled for the doors, sending the Death Eaters into fits of triumphant laughter and cheers. James made sure he was the last one out, and sealed the door behind him. "RUN!!" he yelled, and unquestioningly the tired Order did. The sound of cracking timber and plaster grew louder as everyone stumbled outside. James spun around on the lawn and fired spell after spell at the outside walls. "_Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!_" The others took their cue from him and did the same.

It was a matter of seconds before the whole mansion began to collapse. The second floor caved in, bringing walls and roof down with it, inevitably crushing anyone inside. No Shield spell could withstand tonnes of stone.

As the dust cleared, James turned to Remus, standing slack-jawed in shock beside him, and muttered under his breath, "Bet Malfoy wishes now he didn't have _such_ a big house."


	4. Don't Get Distracted

—**7: Don't Get Distracted—**

* * *

Voldemort smiled as he prepared the silent incantation in his mind, going forward into the room full of Death Eaters. Fabian Prewett was bound in the middle of them, struggling furiously, his brother Gideon dead on the floor a few feet away. Five Death Eaters were holding Fabian in place. Voldemort laughed softly, earning a growl from the man. "Yours will be an important death, Prewett," the Dark Lord half-whispered. "Your comrades will be quite disheartened when they know that you and your pathetic brother have been killed."

"You'll never win," Prewett snarled. "You won't get away with this forever."

"Ah...but I have already won," Voldemort hissed in his ear. "You see..._I cannot be killed_."

Prewett spat in Voldemort's face.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

Voldemort, in his anger, killed the defiant wizard and rushed the incantation to make his next Horcrux. He had the spell memorized perfectly. To split his soul in two, he needed to commit the ultimate abhorrent act—murder—and then recite the silent words in his mind, capturing the piece of ruptured soul and binding it into an object outside of his body. Voldemort's head hurt for the briefest of moments—and he lost his concentration.

The minor pain in his head swelled to seismic proportions. He screamed, hands scrabbling at his forehead, feeling as though his hair was being pulled out from every single root—he clawed at his scalp, the pain unbearable—it was as if his head was splitting in two—

The Death Eaters shrank back in horror. Voldemort uttered one last terrible scream...and then fell to the floor, a thin red line appearing diagonally across his face. Lucius Malfoy stepped forward. "Master...?" he whispered, kneeling to touch the line. "It—it's blood!" he cried.

Voldemort had split his head in two instead of his soul.

Better luck next time.


	5. Rules of the Road

—**6: Rules of the Road—**

* * *

Voldemort advanced slowly on Sirius, wand pointed at his nose, smiling evilly. "Did you think you would defeat me alone, Black?" he said softly as Sirius scrambled backwards, trying to get to his feet and find his wand. Voldemort took slow steps. He didn't need to be fast. "_Crucio_." Cries of agony filled the quiet night as Sirius fell to the ground, twitching and jerking violently in pain. Voldemort laughed. "Yes...it hurts, doesn't it? Did you think you could simply run away and renounce the name of your noble family? It is not that easy to escape me, _Black_...not at all..." 

Sirius gasped for breath, shaking as he pulled himself onto the curb of the sidewalk. He looked around wildly for his wand. _Where_ was_ it?_ It had flown out of his hand just after he'd knocked out Bellatrix and soared over into the grass somewhere on the other side of the street...if he could just find it—

"_Crucio._"

Sirius collapsed again as Voldemort neared, looming over his convulsing body like a spider to a fly. Sirius's arm jerked out over the edge of the curb.

_**BANG**_.

Voldemort didn't even have a chance to turn his head and see what hit him. The triple-decker purple bus appeared out of thin air a foot away from him and barreled him over, crushing his thin, pale body beneath its six huge wheels. The Knight Bus screeched to a stop in front of Sirius and a man hopped out onto the sidewalk.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is George Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening. Do you need assistance standing up, sir?"

"George! I think I hit something!" the driver called from inside the bus.


	6. Bull's Eye

—**5: Bull's-Eye—**

* * *

"Where is that damned tablet?" Voldemort hissed, looking around the alleyway. Lucius Malfoy inclined his head respectfully.

"The old woman was not clear, Master. Perhaps it was a different alley in Pamplona."

"Idiot," Voldemort snarled. "There is only one city in Spain called Pamplona, and I have Death Eaters all throughout it, searching every alley and every nook and cranny _in_ every alley to find this tablet," he snapped. His temper was igniting, his patience fraying. He had to find the tablet. It told the story of Rowena Ravenclaw's magical diadem, and might give clues as to how it disappeared. Voldemort had to read it. It was vital to his plan to create six Horcruxes. With a snarl and a curse that blasted a pothole in the ground, he swept out of the alley and into the road full of people. They were pressed against the shop walls of the curving street, cheering raucously. _Fools_. Voldemort hated Muggles. He decided to kill a bunch of them, his temper needing an outlet, and ignoring the increasing sound of thunder that seemed to be getting closer, he stepped out into the middle of the street, raising his wand.

"_Master!_" cried Malfoy—Voldemort turned to glare—

—and was trampled by the forerunners of roughly thousands of angry bulls, stamping over the pavement as they ran down the street, and the crowd cheered. A few people thought they'd heard a strangled yelp just as the bulls had started to pass, but passed it off as a bull's moo. No one would be stupid enough to step into the street in Spain during the Running of the Bulls.

Malfoy's Disillusionment charm, cast on Voldemort just before they'd gone into the alley, held beautifully even as the Dark Lord was crushed to death by the unforgiving, merciless bulls.


	7. It Can Happen to You

—**4: It Can Happen to You—**

* * *

Voldemort sneezed.

"_Why am I so deathly ill from a common bloody cold?"_ he shrieked at Bellatrix, his face sunken and covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. His hands shook as he clenched them into fists around his bed sheets. Bellatrix shrugged helplessly.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, I don't know. I can't cure it, I've tried everything. It's as if...your body won't fight it."

"RIDICULOUS!" Voldemort yelled, and broke into a fit of coughing. "I've beaten death! I've conquered the secret to immortal life! _How can a _cold_ be winning against me?_"

Bellatrix hesitated, then looked uncertainly at Macnair. He shuddered, but she glared at him, and he stepped forward. "My Lord...Master...I have heard of a disease that Muggles cannot cure. It is passed through the—er—exchange of bodily fluids, and it attacks the a-moon system."

"What is the a-moon system?" Voldemort spat.

"It is what makes your body fight afflictions, Master," Macnair stammered. He glanced back at Bellatrix. "I believe her husband had it, and...I fear...she may have, er..."

"What?" Voldemort snapped, and then he paled, looking at Bellatrix in horror. "You—YOU—when we—YOU—"

But he could not speak for coughing. He started shaking and shivering, and all he could do was glare furiously.

The Death Eaters did all they could for him over the next few hours, but it was no use. Voldemort died alone in the middle of the night, cold and shivering to the bitter end. As Bellatrix pulled the sheet over his head, tears streaming down her face, she asked Macnair, "What was it called?"

"AIDS."

-----------------

**The AIDS epidemic is real. It is unforgiving and deadly, and it does not discriminate in who gets it. Even Lord Voldemort could not escape it. So please, tell your friends to make sure that their needles are clean and to always wear a condom. It is always better to be safe than sorry.**

**For more information on what YOU can do to help prevent AIDS, please visit ****http://www.aidssida.cpha.ca/campaign/indexe.html**** .  
**


	8. Close Encounters

—**3: Close Encounters—**

* * *

"Zorglethorp, which human should we abduct this time?" 

Zorglethorp pondered it for a minute, thoughtful. "One that is...different. We have studied enough _normal_ humans. How about a wizard-human? I am sure it would prove a veritable wellspring of useful information."

Anglethropp nodded in agreement. "I agree. Zorglethorp. Let us descend and abduct."

- - -

Voldemort stood alone on a hill, relishing the feel of wind on his face. Tonight he would make his final Horcrux. Tonight he would murder the Potters.

- - -

"Look, Anglethropp! Ripe for the picking, as the humans say!" Zorglethorp crowed triumphantly.

"Yes! Commence tractor beam!"

Zorglethorp pressed the button.

- - -

Voldemort turned to go down the hill and into Godric's Hollow and stopped mid-step. He suddenly could not move. A yellow beam of light enveloped him and he started to float slowly up into the air. He couldn't widen his eyes or cast a spell or even swear loudly. All movement was denied him. His mind flooded with panic. What on EARTH was going on?

- - -

As the pale-faced bald man floated up into the observation bay, Anglethropp and Zorglethorp observed him eagerly.

"Look at the stick he clutches in his hand!"

"And his clothing—black robes! So unusual!"

"Zorglethorp, we must bring him back to our home planet, Xcdgyzpt, for extensive testing and to be put on display for the public," Anglethropp suggested, turning to his partner.

"I agree, Anglethropp. Commence space travel."

And the aliens zoomed off, never to return again to Earth.


	9. The Right Man to Call

—**2: The Right Man to Call—**

* * *

Voldemort prowled around the deserted street in northern London. He was supposed to be meeting Lucius Malfoy here fifteen minutes ago. Where was the fool? Malfoy was never late. This was extremely unusual—and unnerving. The only reason he would not show up would be if something had gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

Voldemort shook his head and continued pacing impatiently. Nothing was wrong. There was no threat big enough to have disrupted his meeting with Malfoy anyway.

Suddenly a cold wind blew through the empty street, making Voldemort uncomfortable. A shadowy figure rounded the corner and stood silhouetted by the streetlamp's light. Voldemort squinted. "Malfoy, you're late," he snapped.

"Malfoy ain't comin'," said a gravelly voice.

"_Lumos_." Voldemort's wand lit up the face of a man he did not recognize. "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare, Voldy-pants."

Without warning, the man was running impossibly fast, straight at Voldemort, who squared his shoulders and brandished his wand with a grimace on his face and a snarl in his throat. The man leapt into the air and spun around, preparing to execute the world's most feared fighting move in history. Voldemort didn't stand a chance. The man was too fast. He came down on the other side of the Dark Lord and delivered a roundhouse kick to Voldemort's head, snapping it to the side and sending him flying. Voldemort slammed into a brick wall thirty feet away and was dead before he hit the ground.

Sirius stepped out from behind a corner and walked up to the strange man. "Thank you so much, Mr. Norris. I knew you were the right man to call."

"No problem, Black," said Chuck Norris, and he swung himself up onto his horse and rode off into the sunset.


	10. In the Mood

—**1: In the Mood—**

* * *

Tom Riddle kissed his new wife's ear, wanting to start some action, but Merope Riddle—formerly Merope Gaunt—shrugged him away. He sighed.

"Sorry, Tom dear, but I'm just not in the mood tonight."

- - -

**THE END**


End file.
